


as the night fades away

by onhersleeve



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, post 8x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onhersleeve/pseuds/onhersleeve
Summary: As the dusk of the long night ended and the sun rose and dust settled, a new dawn slowly colored the sky, now soft shades of pink and copper tinted the dark blue, bringing all a new beginning._____________Jon and Sansa reunite after the battle has ended.





	as the night fades away

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbetaded, so all the mistakes are mine.

As the dusk of the long night ended and the sun rose and dust settled, a new dawn slowly colored the sky, now soft shades of pink and copper tinted the dark blue, bringing all a new beginning.

 

It is facing that sky through the window of his chambers, not as destroyed as she would have expected, that Sansa finds Jon with a solemn look on his face. She had knocked on his door, to make her presence known, but with the lack of an answer she let herself in.

 

“Jon?” she says softly, almost like a prayer, when he does not acknowledge her, fearing the worst, that it wasn’t him, but someone inhabiting his body, a last sick joke from the night king. But as he turns around, his eyes the same grey as it always was and his face the same long Stark face he always had, she left out a small breathe of relief that she didn’t even know she was holding in.

 

Jon’s unfeeling eyes quickly soften and warm up at her presence, and without having her brother to say anything for some reason she feels her cheeks reddening as she steps closer to him, looking through the window, trying to see what he was seeing. An eerie silence seems to take over the scenery, as if the undead weren’t really gone, just waiting for the living to let their guards down and maybe that was what was in his mind.

 

“Jon,” she starts again, this time her hand reaching out to hold his and not the door, and to her relieve he takes it in, grasping it with both of his hands, gently bringing her closer to him, as if he was about to tell her a secret.

 

No secrets were told or words spoken. At least not at that moment. Jon’s gaze remained on her pale hand, while his blood and gore stained fingers gently caressed it, softly tracing its outline. It feels like forever before he finally speaks.

 

“I have failed.” Jon states simply. She could see the hurt crossing his eyes, his so called failure weighing him down and she couldn’t help but use her thumb to smooth down the heavy lines of his frown.

 

“You have not”

 

“I have.” he replies, his words heavy as his sad eyes finally meet her “I couldn’t get to Bran, I should have been by his side, I’ve failed him and I’ve failed Theon, if it wasn’t for Arya…” he trails on with his voice full of rage against himself before stopping abruptly, as if too afraid of thinking or speaking out the what if in his mind.

 

“Oh Jon,” it’s all she can say, her heart breaking for her brother as she sees that he still carries the weight of the world on his shoulder “You fought hard and bravely, you did all you could. You did not fail them, or anyone else, we were all aware of the risks,” she tries to ease his mind, her hands now cupping his face, making sure he could see in her blue eyes the conviction of her words.

 

“Arya is just a kid, she shouldn’t have been put in this position, it shouldn’t have been her burden to bear,” he said in frustration, not against Arya, never against her, but what the world had become and what it had turned his little sister into.

 

“She is the strongest person I know.” is her simple answer.

 

Something flashes across his eyes and for a moment, as short as it was, Sansa could swear she saw a hue of violet amidst the grey before he speaks, his voice full of something she cannot pinpoint “And what am I? What am I to you?”

 

A soft laughter escapes her lips from the silliness of his question, how could he not know? “My favorite one. You are my favorite person, Jon.” she replies quietly, as if too afraid of being heard, even though no truer words had been spoken by her.

 

The odd violet tint seems to appear within the grey of his eyes once more, but just as it appeared, it flashed away, leaving her confused for a second, as his eyes bore intensely into hers. Without saying a word, Jon moves his face to place a kiss against the palm that cradled his cheek, his eyes never leaving hers as he did so, making her feel an odd sensation of warmth within herself.

 

“I must tell you something” he grumbles, with a certain sadness and yet fierceness in his eyes, leaving her to wonder what it was.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

It was in a past not so distant, but that seemed to be many moons away, not to say another lifetime, that Sansa had asked him if he loved Daenerys. She was met with his silence as he could not lie, but he could not speak his truth either.

 

How could he say that while he did not love her yet, he believed he could learn to do so with time? That while he had fond feelings towards the dragon queen, it was another that haunted his heart?

 

And that question had been worlds away, when he still hadn’t learned the truth, his truth, the one that had been haunting him since he had discovered. And it was to that truth, along with his personal failures in the battle, that his mind had been wandering when Sansa entered his chamber.

 

Nonetheless, now with the long night gone, not thanks to him, he no longer could run away from the fact that he was not Jon Snow, at least not the one he and others believes him to be his entire life.

 

Staring into Sansa’s deep Tully blue eyes, he took a deep breath before removing her hands from his face, even though he wanted nothing more to be comforted by its warmth until the end of time. He kept a soft and yet firm grip over her hands, as he was afraid of her fleeing from horror once learning the truth.

 

“I’ve been lying to you,” he starts and right away he knows those were not the right words to begin, as Sansa’s pink lips part in surprise and her eyes look more alert than they were before, as if she was expecting the worst.

 

However, before she could say anything, he keeps on going, his voice pained and low, his words coming slightly rushed, as he wanted no one else to hear what he was saying “I am not Jon Snow, not truly. I am not your brother or Ned Stark’s bastard, but Lyanna and Rhaegar’s trueborn son.”

 

“I did not tell you before, or anyone else, because if death came for me I wanted to part from this world as Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell, a son of the House Stark, and not as Aegon Targaryen, the legitimate son of Rhaegar Targaryen and a prince of the House Targaryen.”

 

For a brief and yet never-ending moment all he is met with is silence and he can’t help but expect the worst, as her eyes seen vacant and her parted lips remained unmoved. And then a shuddering breathe escapes her lips and her eyes soften with such tenderness that he could swear he felt his heart stopping once more.

 

Before he could even realize, Sansa was wrapping her arms around him, embracing him tightly, whispering his name against the crook of his neck and telling that nothing had changed, he was still a Stark of Winterfell, he was still _her_ Jon and that they would figure everything out.

 

And in that moment, even if temporarily, he believed everything would be alright.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

Sansa had felt the blood rushing through her veins freeze as Jon muttered that he had lied to her. Littlefinger’s voice haunted her ear even after death, to taunt and tease her of the way she behaved and the decisions she took and as Jon admitted to his ruse, she could see Petyr’s leery smirk on her mind’s eye, mocking her for still trusting her bastard brother, even though he seemed to act without taking her words into account.

 

But as Jon spoke of his so called lie, it fell more in the lines of omission and not deception, and told her his secret, Sansa couldn’t help but feel relieved. He had not acted against their family, he had not chosen the dragon queen instead of ~~her~~ them.

 

The truth of his parentage came as a shock to her, but after everything they had gone through, individually and together, it seemed like an easy thing to deal and work with once they were done grieving their dead and the dust settled.

 

Her heart aches for him. As it did since she climbed out of her horse and ran into his arms back at the wall, but now there is a lightness to it, as she feels like it is not tainted, not anymore, it is not something to be ignored and pushed in the back of her heart and mind.

 

Instead of dwelling with the negatives that Jon being a Targaryen heir brought to their family and their land, she decided to focus on the positive, allowing the fluttering of her heart to fill her with hope as she removed herself from their brace, with a smile blossoming on her lips.

 

“You are my cousin then.” she says softly with eyebrows raised in amusement.

 

“Aye.” his reply is a gentle chuckle while his hands tangled with hers, never allowing her to break their proximity, as if he needed her to anchor him and she wanted nothing more than to do that.

 

In a sudden act of comfort, bravery or foolishness, she did not know which, she leans to lovingly kiss his cheek, placing her lips dangerously near to his on purpose. When she leans away, Jon only squeezes her hands harder, tugging her closer to him once more, his eyes letting her in on another secret of his.

 

 

Maybe there was still hope for a warm spring.


End file.
